


Evermore

by WinterandSpringSpirit1992



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Gaston Being Gaston (Disney), Nobility!Reader, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Sexism, Reader-Insert, Romance, Temporary Character Death, You and Belle are BFFs, mentions of the plague, reader is a writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterandSpringSpirit1992/pseuds/WinterandSpringSpirit1992
Summary: When Belle and Maurice set out for the market and don't return the next day, you find them imprisoned in a castle by a Beast and take their place.  As time goes on, you start to realize that this castle and its inhabitants are familiar.





	1. Life in Villeneuve

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know. Not the most original title on here.
> 
> But anyway, after seeing the new version of Beauty and the Beast countless times and reading a few rewrites of the movie that have another character in Belle's place that gets paired up with the Beast, I thought I'd try my hand at one and do a Reader-Insert at the same time.
> 
> Key:
> 
> Y/n = Your name

_Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France, a handsome young prince lived in a beautiful castle.  Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was selfish and unkind.  He taxed the village to fill his castle with the most beautiful objects and his parties with the most beautiful people._

_Then one night, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle, seeking shelter from the bitter storm.  As a gift, she offered the prince a single rose.  Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince turned the woman away.  But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within._

_When he dismissed her again, the old woman’s outward appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.  The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late.  For she had seen that there was no love in his heart.  As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there._

_As days bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world, for the Enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved.  But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose.  If he could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken.  If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time._

_As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope.  For who could ever learn to love a beast?_

 

* * *

 

It’s the beginning of a new day in Villeneuve.

After helping your servants with the chores, you leave your manor and walk into the village to meet your friend, Belle.

“Y/n,” she greets when you arrive in town and meet her as she’s coming out of her cottage.

“Belle,” you greet in kind.

You’d met Belle five years ago on the day of your father’s funeral and you two had been inseparable ever since, despite your social statuses.

It’s almost 8:00.

 _Wait for it,_ you think, as the clock begins to strike the hour.

Once the clock finishes striking the hour, every villager you and Belle pass greets, “Bonjour!” like clockwork.

You stop and wait as Belle pays for a loaf of bread for the local beggar woman, Agathe, before she heads to the church to return the book she’d borrowed from Père Robert.  The book she’d borrowed and finished recently was Romeo and Juliet, which had turned out to be her favorite work by William Shakespeare.

“Good morning, Belle,” Monsieur Jean greets.

“Good morning, Monsieur Jean,” Belle says.  “Have you lost something again?”

“Well, I believe I have,” he says.  “The problem is, I can’t remember what.”  You can sympathize.  For the last three years, you’ve been having that feeling that you’re forgetting something, but you don’t know what.  “Oh well,” he says as he puts his hat on his head.  “I’m sure it will come to me.”  Belle feeds Monsieur Jean’s mule an apple and the two of you begin to walk off, as Monsieur Jean asks, “Where are you and Lady Y/n headed off to?”

“To return this book to Père Robert,” Belle answers.  “It’s about two lovers in fair Verona.”

“Sounds boring,” he comments.

As you and Belle walk further into town, the whispers about you and Belle start as they always do.

“Strange, no question,” “Dazed and distracted,” “Never part of any crowd,” (that’s the comment you hate the most; you and Belle have tried more than once to fit in, but anytime either of you try to talk about some of the subjects that interest you the most that aren’t about the village or life in the village in general, everyone instantly loses interest) and “No denying, they’re funny girls.”

Finally, you both arrive at the church.  As is your custom, you hover outside of the vestry, waiting for Belle to return her book.  Soon enough, she comes out and you both set off to buy a jar of jam for Agathe.

The whispers resume, but you try your best to ignore them this time by asking Belle what book she'd gotten this time as you both buy that jar of jam.  As it turns out, Père Robert didn’t have anything new and allowed Belle to borrow any of the older ones she’d liked.  She’d gotten her old favorite, a story about a heroine who met a prince in disguise.

Soon enough, you and Belle find Agathe.

“Good morning, Agathe,” Belle says.  “I don’t have any money, but…”

She hands over the bread and Agathe says, “Oh.  No jam?”

You hand over the jar of jam and, just before you leave, you discreetly place ten francs in her cup.

When she’s about to protest, you whisper, “Keep it.  You need it a lot more than I do.”

“Bless you, Lady Y/n,” Agathe whispers back.

More often than not, giving a fair amount of money or allowing Agathe to stay the night at your manor when it looked like the weather wasn't going to be pleasant has earned you dirty looks from some of the villagers, mostly Clothilde, who you mostly butted heads with.  When you’d given Agathe money for the first time and had seen Clothilde give you a disapproving glare, you’d simply fixed Clothilde with a glare, silently daring her to tell you what you as a noble lady could and couldn’t do.

You and Belle begin to part ways, but not before she asks you, “You are coming over for lunch this afternoon, right?”

“Absolutely,” you say.

With a smile, you turn to head out of the village back to your manor, glad to leave the whispers of the villagers behind.  With any luck, you probably won’t run into Gaston.

Unfortunately, you must have done something to offend a higher power in another life or some higher power must have it in for you.

Because at the very moment you begin to head for the gates, two horses carrying none other than Gaston and LeFou arrive.  Before Gaston can notice you, you immediately turn around and slip into the crowd.

It's a skill that you've perfected over the years when you want to avoid him.  And one that's mostly served you well on the few occasions you _can_ avoid him, even as you spot him grabbing a bouquet of flowers and trying to make his way through the crowd toward you.  Once you see a large enough crowd behind you, you immediately begin heading back toward the gates.

“Good morning, Y/n!”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to rip your hair out of your head as you always want to do whenever you're forced into a conversation with this man, before you force a smile on your face and turn and say, calmly, “Bonjour, Gaston.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see LeFou mouth, “Sorry” to you and you give an understanding nod, before turning back to Gaston, who hands you the bouquet.

“For your dinner table," he says.  "Shall I join you this evening?”

“Sorry, not this evening,” you say.

 _Not ever, in fact,_ you add, silently.

“Busy?” He asks.

“No…” you say.

Then you quickly walk away and out of the village before he can engage you in any more conversation.

 

* * *

 

Later, you make your way back into town to join Belle and Maurice for lunch with a basket of food.  Luckily, you're able to avoid Gaston this time.

Once you arrive at Belle’s cottage, you tap lightly on the door and Belle lets you in.  You see Maurice sitting at the table, tinkering with one of his music boxes.

“I thought that was you, Y/n,” Maurice greets.

“Hello, Maurice,” you say, as you set down the basket and pull out some vegetables and fruit.

“How was your walk?” He asks.

“It was fine,” you answer, as you begin helping Belle with lunch.  “Though I ran into Gaston this morning.”

Belle gives you a sympathetic look, as she shakes her head and says, “Honestly, I don’t know what’s become of that man.  He used to be...somewhat decent before the war.”

Ah, yes, that French/Portuguese war Gaston always went on about to whatever captive audience would listen.  You’d been a part of the war too, in another way, but you never went on about it the way Gaston did.  During that time, you’d offered up your manor as a convalescent home for the wounded and dying soldiers of your homeland and helped your maids care for the soldiers.  Incidentally, it was where Gaston, captain of his battalion at the time, first met you.  And from that day on, after he’d healed, he’d been trying to woo you even though you’d shown little to no interest in him.

“If you ask me, I think the war only added to his character," you say, remembering all the times you had to feign interest in whatever war story Gaston regaled you with to try and impress you, which more often than not was about how if it weren't for him, the whole village would have been annihilated.  "That arrogance and conceit was probably already there to begin with.  It just took the war to inflate all of that."  Then you add, "I really can't see myself with someone such as him.  I mean, I know he's good-looking and well off, but he's rude and conceited and...I just don't think he's the man for me."

If you're honest, you do want to get married, not for wealth or looks, but for love, like your parents had.  You want someone who likes you for who you are.  But the odds of ever meeting someone like that in this village or anywhere else are a million to one.  And it's probably why you'll end up an old maid before it happens.

 

* * *

 

Later, after lunch, you help Maurice load the music boxes he and Belle are planning to sell at the market at the next village over into the wagon while Belle hitches up Philippe.  Before Belle gets onto the wagon with her father, you hug her.

“So, what shall we bring you from the market?” Maurice asks you.

You pause to think, before you answer, “A rose.  For my family.”

You’d been searching through the flower stalls for a rose to put on your family’s grave earlier, but had found none whatsoever.

“You have our word, Y/n,” Maurice says, before he and Belle set off.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Belle calls out.

"With the rose," Maurice adds.

“Goodbye, Belle,” you say, as you watch them leave.  “Goodbye, Maurice.”  Once they’re gone, you add softly, “Stay safe.  Both of you.”


	2. Trespassing on the Mistress' Lands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You end up causing an uproar in town at the washing fountain and receiving unwanted help from Gaston, who has yet another proposal for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Key:
> 
> Y/n: Your name
> 
> H/l: Hair length
> 
> H/c: Hair color
> 
> E/c: Eye color

A while later, after seeing Belle and Maurice off, you’re sitting at the washing fountain with a blank book in your lap, a quill in your hand, and an inkwell beside you, brushing your (h/l) (h/c) hair out of your (e/c) eyes.  Luckily, you’re the only one there, save for a little girl doing laundry by herself.  There wasn’t much for you to do back at the manor, since Lawrence, your butler, and Nancy, your housekeeper, had insisted that you didn’t need to help with anymore chores and the laundry had already been done yesterday, so here you were at the fountain, writing up the most recent idea for a story you had before it slips your mind.

You and Belle both love reading, yes, but you both have different hobbies.  Belle invents things that can be practical in the house and anywhere else, and you tend to write stories about adventure or romance or fantasy.

The first time you’d given Belle your story to read to see what she thought of it, she’d been impressed and asked if you’d ever considered sending it out to be published.  You truthfully answered that yes, you had, but every story you’d sent out for consideration had been rejected, on the grounds that what you wrote wasn’t serious enough.

“What are you doing?”

You turn to see the little girl who’d been doing laundry watching you.

“Writing a story,” you answer.

“What’s it about?” She asks.

You’re surprised, but you hide it.  This is the first time someone other than Belle, Maurice, Père Robert, or Monsieur Jean has shown a genuine interest in what you’re doing and wants to know what you’re writing about.  You quickly glance about to make sure there aren’t any disapproving eyes watching, namely the headmaster and Clothilde, before telling her.

“Well, it’s about a princess,” you answer.  “A princess whose husband is stolen from her on her wedding night by a jealous witch and she sets out on a quest to rescue him.”

As you tell the little girl the story of the princess who sets out to rescue her betrothed and the trials she endures, you gradually lose yourself in the process and don’t realize you have another audience.

“What on Earth are you doing?”

You and the girl both turn to see the headmaster nearby.

“It’s bad enough we have two girls who know how to read,” the headmaster said.  “But filling another girl’s head with ridiculous stories when she should be doing the laundry instead?”

You can see a crowd has gathered now to see what’s happening and what your response will be.

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, Monsieur Headmaster,” you warn, as you stand up.  “You forget who you speak to.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever invoked your status to someone in the village before, and if this keeps up, it more than likely will not be the last.

Thinking you made your point to the headmaster, you turn away, sit back down, and continue telling your story to the little girl.  Suffice to say, most of the villagers don’t take your response too well and begin shouting their outrage at you.  All throughout it, you remain unfazed and continue telling her the story, even when someone comes up to rip the book you’re writing in out of your hands to possibly throw into the fountain, yet you keep a tight grip on it, refusing to let go.

But then the clamor stops when a gunshot rings out, startling the crowd and scaring off the little girl you’d been telling your story to.  You don’t know whether or not to groan, knowing a certain captain has just arrived.

“Okay, come on, people,” LeFou announces, clapping his hands and forcing the crowd to part as he and Gaston walk in.  “Make a lane.  Don’t make me say it twice.”

Gaston hands his rifle over to LeFou to handle and LeFou puts it over his shoulder, only for it go off again and end up killing a cow.

You hear LeFou whisper to Gaston, “I really hope that cow was old.”

Gaston stands in the center of the crowd and says, “This is not how good people behave.  Everyone, go home, now!”

You aren’t surprised when the crowd immediately disperses.  You huff in annoyance as you pack away your ink, quill, and book and turn to head home.  And you aren’t even surprised when Gaston falls into step with you.

“I’m not sure what happened back there, but I’m pretty sure I fixed it,” he tells you.  You hold back a scoff as you both walk out of the village and to your manor.  “Heard you had trouble with the headmaster, Y/n.  He never liked me either.”  You continue to ignore him as you head through the back entrance of your manor, lock the gate, and head through your garden to the other gate, even as he keeps stride with you around the wall separating you.  “Can I give you a little advice about the villagers, though?” He asks.  “They’re never going to trust the kind of change you and Belle are trying to bring.”

He steps over a fence and you have to fight back the urge to strangle him when he tramples your cabbages to stand in your path.

“The little girl was just curious about the story I was writing,” you say.  “All I wanted was to tell her about it.”

“The only children you should concern yourself with are…your own,” he tells you.

Your temper begins to rise at his insinuation and you move to go past him, only for him to block your path and a red flag springs up in your mind, before you swiftly step past him.

“I’m…not ready to have children,” you state, as you step through the other gate.

“Maybe, you haven’t met the right man,” he suggests, as you close the gate.

“It’s a small village, Gaston,” you say, as you pointedly lock the gate.  “I’ve met them all, even the eligible ones.”

You turn to walk up the path to your manor and, once again, you’re not surprised when he unlocks the gate and follows you up the path, saying, “Well, maybe you should take another look.  Some of us have changed.”

“Oh, for God’s…” You mumble under your breath, annoyed that he hasn’t gotten the hint.  What did you have to do to get the message across to him? Paint a picture? “Gaston, we could never make each other happy.  No one can change _that_ much.  I will never marry you.  The answer is no.”

You turn to walk up the three steps to your manor until he says, “If you won’t accept my offer, perhaps Belle will.”

You stop dead in your tracks on the third step at the mere mention of your friend.

_That scoundrel!_

Then you slowly turn to glare at him and growl, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he says.  Your skin crawls as he grabs the skirt of your dress to climb up to the step you’re on and you grab onto your skirt, trying to gently pull it out of his grasp.  “Just say yes and I’ll leave her alone.” 

Suddenly, a gun goes off and a bullet strikes the ground near the two of you, nearly missing Gaston, who lets go of your skirt and jumps back.

You turn to see Lawrence standing on the lawn with a smoking rifle.

“Sorry about that, Captain,” he says, cheerfully, as he walks over.  “I meant to shoot you.  Sadly, I’m not the marksman I used to be.  Must be getting old.”

The door opens behind you and you waste no time rushing over to Nancy, who checks to make sure you’re alright.

“Now, Monsieur Lawrence, I can assure you this isn’t what it looks like,” Gaston says.

“Really?” Lawrence says.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trespassing on the mistress’ lands, both figuratively _and_ literally.  I could shoot you on the spot right now for that.  The other manservants are scattered about right now.”

Sure enough, Pierre and Thomas are hiding on the roof while William, Jacque, and the rest are scattered about in hiding places, all of them aiming their own rifles at Gaston.

“And most of them happen to be a crack shot with a repeating rifle,” Lawrence goes on.  “And they will pump you full of lead before they have to reload.  So, please take yourself off the mistress’s lands.  And if any of us see you trespassing here or trying to do anything untoward to the mistress again, we won’t be so civil next time, if you take my meaning.”  Gaston turns to leave, as Lawrence adds, “Good day to you, Captain,” before calling out, “William!  Jacque!  See to it that the captain doesn’t try and make a detour.”

William and Jacque are all too happy to as they emerge from the bushes they're hiding in and walk Gaston to the main gates, pointing their rifles at him in case he attempts to diverge from the path.  After they open the gates for him, they not so gently shove him outside of the gates, causing him to stumble into a mud puddle.

“Alright, dearie?” Nancy asks, once you’re both inside.

“I’m fine,” you say.

With any luck, maybe the prospect of being shot on sight if he tried trespassing on your lands or did anything like what he almost did to you again will have put an end to Gaston’s unwanted advances.


	3. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Philippe shows up at your home, you set out in search of Belle and Maurice. You come across a castle stuck in winter that looks strangely familiar and discover your two friends have been taken prisoner by a beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Key:
> 
> Y/n = Your name
> 
> Y/l/n = Your last name

The next day, you’re tending your garden when you hear a whinny and look up to see Philippe rush up through the back gate, which you’d left open, and go over to the water trough by the stable to take a drink.

“Philippe? What’s the matter, boy?” You say.  The first thing you notice is that his reins are torn, and a wave of panic sweeps through you when you don’t see either Belle or Maurice with him even when you look out the gate to see if either of your friends are coming to intercept their horse.  “What happened? Where are Belle and Maurice? Take me to them!”

Not even bothering to change into proper riding attire, you arm yourself with your father’s dagger and four other daggers you strap under your dress.  You don’t know what you’re going to run into wherever Belle and Maurice are, but better to be safe than sorry.  After telling Lawrence and Nancy what you're doing, you throw on your cloak and ready your horse, Phoenix, putting her tack on, before replacing Philippe’s bridle with a fresh one and tying his reins to Phoenix’s.  Once you mount Phoenix, you, Phoenix, and Philippe set off into the woods.  Philippe turns to the right once he reaches a downed tree.

Confusion is added to your concern when your surroundings change into winter.  You shiver as you wrap your cloak tighter around yourself.

 _Winter? In June?_ You think, wondering if you're dreaming all this.

Then you notice something up ahead and stop both Phoenix and Philippe.

It’s the wagon Belle and Maurice had set out on, which is overturned.  You urge the two horses onward, positive that you're close to finding Belle and Maurice.

You arrive at a set of gates, which swing open, almost as if someone was expecting you, much to your confusion.  The two horses slow to a trot up the path and stop at the stables.

Once you dismount Phoenix and untie Philippe and Phoenix’s reins, you pat your legs down to make sure you have your daggers with you.  When all that is done, you head up the stairs, cross a courtyard to a large castle, and go inside.

As you look around the entrance hall, you suddenly realize something.

_This place seems…familiar.  Like I’ve been here before._

Suddenly, you hear a distinct whisper, “Look, Cogsworth.  It’s her!  She’s come back!”

Then you hear another whisper, “Yes, I can see it’s her.  I lost my hands, not my eyes.”

“But what if she is the one? The one who will break the spell?”

Now you turn and call out, “Who said that?”

No answer.

“Who’s there?” You call out again.

Still no answer.

You spot a candelabra and a mantle clock on a table nearby.  You walk over to examine them closely.  You’re not much of an expert in antiques like Maurice or your erstwhile father, but the carvings and etchings on them are rather exquisite and intricately detailed, especially around the faces.  Almost as if...

Suddenly, a cough rings out through the air.  You turn away from the objects, recognizing that cough.

“Maurice,” you whisper under your breath.

And wherever Maurice was, Belle was not far from his side.

Without wasting a heartbeat, you grab the candelabra from the table and dash up the stairs to where you heard the cough.  You stop for a moment when you see the stairs fork off in two different directions.  You hear the cough come from the left and you race up a spiraling staircase.

“Belle? Maurice?” You call out as you run up the stairs.  “Is that you?”

Finally, you arrive in what can only be a dungeon and find Maurice and Belle huddled together in one of the cells.  You set the candelabra down on a ledge by the cell and fall to your knees, grasping Belle’s hands through the cell.

“Y/n? How did you find us?” Maurice asks.

“Philippe showed up at the manor,” you answer.  “When I didn’t see either you or Belle with him…” But then you shake your head and say, “But never mind me."  You turn and start hunting for a set of keys, as you add, "Just point me to a set of keys, and I’ll have you two out of here in no time!”

Belle suddenly says, “Y/n, you have to get out of here!”

“Who did this to you and your father, Belle?” You demand, wondering what sort of monster had locked them up here.

“There’s no time to explain, Y/n!”  Maurice says, now joining in Belle’s attempts to get you to leave them here.  “This castle is alive!  Now, go before _he_ finds you!”

That catches your attention.

 _He?_ You wonder, noticing how much emphasis Maurice had put on that particular word.

“Who?” You ask.

Before either Maurice or Belle can answer, an animalistic growl suddenly resonates throughout the dungeon and every hair on the back of your neck stands up in reaction.  You whirl around and whip out your dagger, as Belle and Maurice turn to where you all heard it and huddle close to each other in fear, which doesn’t escape your notice.  You cautiously walk away from Maurice and Belle’s cell and stop when you spot a figure standing on a turret far away from the one you’re standing on through an archway.

“Who’s there? Who are you?” You call out.

“Who are _you?_ ” The figure retorts.

“I’ve come for my friend and her father,” you answer.  This could only be the master of this place, so you lower your dagger and invoke your status, “Release them, by order of Lady Y/n Y/l/n!”

The figure begins to walk down the stairs toward you.

“Your friends…are thieves,” the figure snarls, as he disappears around a bend.

“Liar!  How dare you!”  You spit.

You’ve known Maurice and Belle for as long as you can remember and they would never ever…

“They stole a rose,” the figure says, as he peeks at you through the archway, appearing close enough that you can see him, but that he’s still shadowed.

A guilty look crosses your face when you remember what you’d asked Belle and Maurice to bring you from the market.

“I asked for the rose,” you say.  “If you have to punish someone, punish me, not them!”

Belle and Maurice don’t deserve to be imprisoned like two common criminals just because you wanted a rose to lay on your family’s grave.

“No, he means forever!”  Maurice tells you, and you turn to him in confusion.  What did he mean, forever? “Apparently, that’s what happens around here when you _pick a flower!_ ”

The disbelief on your face shows as you turn back to the figure.  Surely, Maurice has to be joking.

“A life sentence for a rose?” You ask, incredulously.

The figure roars and jumps to the turret you’re on, landing on the stairs, and your grip on your dagger nearly falters as you scramble back in surprise.  Now that he’s close enough, you can make out horns on the top of his head.

_Horns? What in…?_

“I received eternal damnation for one,” the figure tells you, as he begins to approach you and you back away, pointing your dagger at him.  “I’m merely locking them away.  Now, do you still wish to take your friends’ place?”

“Come into the light,” you say.

The figure turns away from you and shakes his head.

You sigh and sheathe your dagger, mumbling dangerously under your breath, before you pick up the candelabra from where you put it and hold it up to the figure’s face, only to wish you didn’t when the figure turns and you gasp sharply.

Belle and Maurice’s captor is not human, but quite literally a beast with golden brown fur, large horns that would put a ram’s to shame, and claws that could slice you into ribbons.  He wears a tattered cloak, shirt, and pants.  If there’s really anything human about him…it’s those blue eyes.  You realize they seem familiar to you.

You don’t get to dwell on this thought any further when the Beast leans in and you reflexively lean back, as he tells you, “Choose.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this,” Belle speaks up, and you turn to her, grateful for an excuse to look away from the Beast.  “Just leave.  We’ll figure out a way to escape.”

You know Belle and how clever she is, but even if she and her father find a way to escape, you refuse to leave both of them to their fate.  Then you get an idea.

“Alright, Belle, I’ll leave,” you say, feigning reluctance.  You turn to the Beast and say, “I’d like a moment alone with them.”  The Beast turns and begins to walk away, making you frown.  “Are you so cold-hearted you won’t allow someone to bid her two dear friends goodbye? Forever can spare a minute.”

The Beast pauses, before he turns and walks toward you.  You uneasily back away, uncertain of what he’s going to do, until he pulls a lever by the cell, which opens.

“When this door closes, it will _not_ open again,” he tells you, before turning away.

After setting the candelabra down, you rush into the cell and hug Belle as tightly as you can and Maurice does the same.

“I should’ve insisted on being with you two,” you mumble.

“We’ll be okay, Y/n,” Belle says.  “Don’t worry about us.”

“I know,” you whisper, before you bring Belle and Maurice in for one last hug.  Then you throw your plan into action and quickly whisper into her ear, “And I will escape, I promise.  Just let Lawrence and Nancy know I’ll be all right.”

Before either Belle or Maurice have time to register what you just said, you shove them out of the cell as gently as you can and lock yourself inside.

“Y/n, what?” Maurice begins.

“Go,” you whisper.

You’re terrified, but you keep a calm facade.

Belle and Maurice are reluctant, but turn to leave.

But not before Belle clutches your hands through the cell and whispers, “We’ll come back with a rescue party, I promise.”

With that, the two leave the dungeon, leaving you alone with the Beast.

“You took their place,” he comments.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask, calmly, wondering why he seems so surprised that you did this.  “They’re my friends.”

“They’re both fools,” he tells you, disdainfully.  “And so are you.”

You bristle at the insult.  But before you can fire back an insult of your own, the Beast leaves.  Probably to make sure Belle and Maurice don’t try to sneak back and rescue you on their own.

You allow your calm facade to slip then as you huddle in a corner of your cell and wrap your cloak around you for comfort and warmth.

“Y/n, what have you gotten yourself into?” You whisper under your breath, wondering for the first time if you’d made the right decision.


	4. Familiar Voices and Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet the other inhabitants of the castle.

You’re startled awake (you don’t remember falling asleep) by the sound of your cell door opening and you quickly spring to your feet.

You get the sense that you might’ve dreamt something, but you can’t remember what.

“Forgive my intrusion, mademoiselle,” a heavily-accented voice calls out, as you grab a stool and prepare to attack whoever's speaking and make a run for it, “but I have come to escort you to your room.”

You realize that voice sounds familiar, but that thought quickly vanishes when you register what the voice said.

“My room?” You ask in confusion.  “But, I thought…”

“Oh, what?” The voice asks, and you notice a shadow outside of your cell that looks distinctly human.  “That ‘Once this door closes, it will not open again’?”  You have to fight back an amused smile at the roar the person adds in his rather spot-on impression of the Beast, before he says in a normal voice,  “I know, he gets so dramatic.”  You emerge from your cell and you discover that the candelabra is the one that opened your cell and is _speaking._ Thinking you're still dreaming, you shut your eyes and mentally count to three.  But when you open your eyes, the candelabra is still there.  “Allô,” he greets you.

You gasp in shock.  The candelabra drops onto the ground and you quickly whack him with the stool and let out a belated scream.  To your amazement, the candelabra recovers.

“Oh, you are very strong,” the candelabra says, as he reignites the candles on his hands and then the one on his head.  “This is a great quality!”

“What are you?” You ask.

“I am Lumiere,” the candelabra answers.

“And…you can talk?” You ask, wondering if you’ve gone insane (because that would be just perfect, wouldn’t it? You’ve only been in this cell for - what, a day now? - and you’re already losing your mind).

“Well, of course he can talk!”  Another familiar voice answers, and you turn to watch as a mantle clock arrives in the dungeon.  “It’s all he ever does,” he adds.  “Now, Lumiere, as head of the household, I demand you put her back in her cell at once!”

You dash back into your cell and pick up a basin and come back out, ready to whack the clock with it, just as you hear Lumiere whisper to Cogsworth, “What do you want to be for the rest of your life, Cogsworth? A man or a mantle clock?” Upon seeing you, he stands up and asks, “Ready, miss?” He turns to lead the way, whispering to Cogsworth, “Trust me.”

You hesitate a moment, before you sigh and set the basin down.

“Winter in June, a beast in a castle, and talking objects that sound familiar,” you mumble to yourself, as you follow Lumiere and Cogsworth.  “Now, I’ve seen everything.”

 

* * *

 

Moments later, Cogsworth leads you out of the dungeon to another tower while you talk with Lumiere.

“You must forgive first impressions,” Lumiere says.  “I hope you are not too startled.”

“Oh, I think I’m beyond startled,” you tell Lumiere.  “I’m talking to a _candle_.”

“Candelabra, please,” Lumiere corrects you.  “Enormous difference.  But consider me at your service.  The castle is your home now, so feel free to go anywhere you like.”

Cogsworth turns to say, “Except the West Wing.”  You don’t miss the gesture Lumiere gives Cogsworth, who now looks as if he let the cat out of the bag, as he says, “Which we do not have.”

“Why?” You ask, curiosity aroused as you turn to Lumiere.  “What’s in the West Wing?”

“Nothing,” Lumiere says.

“Nothing,” Cogsworth repeats.

“Storage space.”

“Storage space.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it,” Cogsworth says, before changing the subject and leading you across the bridge.  “This way, please, to the East Wing!”

“Or as I like to call it, the only wing,” Lumiere comments.  “Watch your step, s’il vous plait!”

You notice a tower nearby with a gargoyle with icicles hanging from its fangs, before you turn to follow Cogsworth.

Cogsworth opens a door and leads you inside of the tower toward a set of doors.  Lumiere hops out of your hand and off of Cogsworth’s head to open the doors to your room.

“Welcome to your new home,” Lumiere announces, as you step into the room.  “It’s modest, but comfortable.”

You look around the room in awe.

“It’s…” _Familiar._   “Beautiful,” you say.

 _Fit for a princess,_ you muse to yourself.

“But, of course,” Lumiere says.  “Master wanted you to have the finest room in the castle.”  He jumps onto the bed and coughs as a layer of dust flies up from the comforter.  “Oh dear, we were not expecting guests.”

A feather duster swoops past you into the room, greeting, “Enchanté, mademoiselle!”  As you watch, she flies around the room, cleaning every area in the room.  “Don’t worry,” she tells you, “I’ll have this place spotless in no time!”

 _Yet another familiar voice,_ you think as you watch her fly over to the bed and land in Lumiere’s arms.

“This plan of yours is dangerous,” she whispers.

“I would risk anything to kiss you again, Plumette,” Lumiere tells the feather duster.

“No, my love, I’ve been burned by you before,” says Plumette.  “We must be strong.”

“How can I be so strong when you make me so weak?” He asks her.

Watching them, you realize they remind you of someone.  Deciding to distract yourself from this thought and the couple before you, you look around the room.

“Is everything here alive?” You ask Lumiere, Plumette, and Cogsworth, before you tentatively pick up a hairbrush from a dressing table and say, “Hello, what’s your name?”

Plumette giggles while Lumiere face palms, as Cogsworth tells you, “That is a hairbrush.”

You blush at the realization that you’ve made a fool out of yourself as you put the hairbrush back on the table.

 _Well, maybe that’s it for animate objects that sound familiar,_ you think.

You’re wrong again.

The wardrobe by your table suddenly lets out a loud operatic note, startling you.

“Do not be alarmed,” Lumiere tells you, as he hops off of the bed.  “This is just your wardrobe!  Meet Madame de Garderobe!  A great singer.”

“When she can stay awake,” Cogsworth comments.

Garderobe.  You’ve heard that name before.  But where?

“Cogsworth!  A diva needs her beauty rest,” the wardrobe says with a great big yawn.

“Stay with us, Madame!”  Lumiere says, before gesturing to you.  “We have someone for you to dress!”

“Finally, a woman!”  Garderobe says.  She grabs you by your arms and takes stock of your appearance.  “Pretty eyes.  Proud face.  Perfect canvas.  Yes!  I will find you something worthy of a princess.”

You blush and smile modestly, as you say, “Oh, I may be nobility, but I’m not a princess.”

“Nonsense!”  Garderobe declares.  “Now, let’s see what I’ve got in my drawers.”  As you watch, she opens her bottom drawers and a bunch of moths fly out, causing her to blush madly.  “Oh, how embarrassing!”  She pulls a hoop skirt out of her drawer before putting it over you, as she calls out, “Froufrou!  Come help Mama!”

A piano stool scampers into the room, barking like a dog, as Garderobe spins you this way and that in different shades of pink fabric.  Froufrou pulls on one particular rag that is wrapped around your torso, tightening it like a corset, and you let out a gasp for air.  As a finishing touch, Garderobe places a powdered wig on your head.  You’re not sure what you look like right now, but you’re certain you look ridiculous.

Lumiere, Plumette, and Cogsworth are beginning to leave the room, as Lumiere comments, “Subtle.  Understated.  I love it!  Au revoir!”

“Froufrou, send my love to the maestro!”  Garderobe calls out, as Froufrou leaves the room.

Shortly after you’re left alone with Garderobe, she promptly goes back to sleep.  You take the powdered wig off and slip out from under the dress.  You walk over to a window, remembering you’d promised Belle that you were going to escape.  You open the window, only to be greeted by a very large drop.  But then you look at the dress and the rags surrounding it and get an idea.


	5. Be Our Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staff gives you dinner and a show.

Word has spread around the castle of your arrival, and to say the staff is excited is an understatement.

“Mama!  There’s a girl in the castle!”  Chip says, excitedly, zipping around on his saucer.  “It’s Y/n!”

“Yes, Chip, we know!”  His mother, Mrs. Potts says from her place on the service trolley.

“What kind of tea does she like?” Chip asks, zipping around the kitchen.  “Herbal? Oolong? Chamomile? I’m too excited!”

“Slow down before you break your handle,” Mrs. Potts exclaims, as he lands on the trolley.

 

* * *

 

It was you.  After all these years, you’d come back to him.

The Beast hadn’t been sure it was you until he saw you in the dungeon.  The years had been kind to you, but the curse hadn’t made an exception to making you forget.  You couldn’t remember him, but he was certain he’d seen a flicker of recognition in your (e/c) eyes for a moment.  He wasn’t sure it made any difference, though.

He arrives in the dining room and sits down at the head of the table when he notices a discrepancy.  There’s an extra place set at the other end of the table.

He frowns, realizing just who had done this, and shoves his plates off the table.

“LUMIERE!”  He bellows.

 

* * *

 

Inside of the kitchen, both Lumiere and Cogsworth freeze.

“Oh,” Cogsworth says.

“Be calm,” Lumiere tells him.  “Let me do the talking.”

The Beast storms into the kitchen.

“You’re making her dinner?” He asks.

“Well, we thought you might appreciate the company,” Lumiere suggests.

“Master, I just want to assure you that I had no part in this hopeless plan,” Cogsworth says.  “Preparing her dinner, designing a gown for her, giving her a suite in the East Wing!”

“You gave her a bedroom?!” The Beast shouts.

“No, no, no.  _He_ gave her a bedroom,” Cogsworth says, gesturing to Lumiere.

“This is true,” Lumiere admits.  “But if she’s the one who can break the spell, then maybe you could start by using dinner to charm her!  Good thinking, Cogsworth!”

“What?” Cogsworth says.

The Beast shakes his head.

“That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard!”  He exclaims.  “How am I supposed to charm her if she can’t even remember who I am?”

That moment you’d both shared at that abandoned shack all those years ago feels so far away now.

“But you must try, Master, even if she can’t remember you,” Lumiere says.  “With each passing day, we become less human.”

“She associates herself with two common thieves,” the Beast snaps.  It had been quite an annoyance to learn that the two thieves you’d ordered the release of were your friends.  “What kind of person do you think that makes her?”

What in the world had you learned in between all those years of your separation and arriving at the castle in search of those two thieves you called your friends?

“Oh, you can’t judge people by who they associate themselves with now, can you?” Mrs. Potts asks with a knowing look.

The Beast sighs, realizing Mrs. Potts is right.

 

* * *

 

A moment later, he knocks on your door three times and, without waiting for an answer, says, “You will join me for dinner.  That’s not a request.”

“Gently, Master,” Mrs. Potts says.  “The girl lost her freedom and her friends in one day.”

“Yes, the poor girl is probably in there, scared to death,” Lumiere comments.

“Exactly,” Mrs. Potts says.

You are anything but what Lumiere described right now.  Inside of your room, you drag a makeshift rope, which you’d spent the better part of the evening working on, consisting of the rags from the dress Madame Garderobe made for you over to the window after tying it around one of the bedposts and dangling it out of the window until you hear the Beast knock again, a lot softer than he had the first time.

“Um, just a minute!”  You call out.

“You see? There she is!”  Lumiere says.  “Now, remember, be gentle.”

“Kind,” Mrs. Potts adds.

“Charming,” Plumette adds.

“Sweet,” Cogsworth adds.

“And when she opens the door, give her a dashing debonair smile,” Lumiere suggests.  “Come, come, show me the smile!”

The Beast gives his best attempt at a smile and the servants end up recoiling.

He scowls at them, before turning back to the door and asking as civilly as possible, “Will you join me for dinner?”

Now, you walk away from the window and over to the doors, wondering if you’d heard him right.

“First, you take me as your prisoner, and now you want to have dinner with me?” You ask in disbelief.  “Are you insane?”

The Beast’s temper starts to rise.

“Uh-oh, he’s losing it,” Plumette whispers, realizing what’s about to happen as she quickly hides behind Lumiere, while Cogsworth quickly takes cover behind a table, muttering, “Oh dear.”

The Beast pounds on the door with almost enough force to break it down and you take a step back in surprise.

“I TOLD YOU TO JOIN ME FOR DINNER!”  The Beast shouts at you.

But you stand your ground, refusing to be cowed into submission, and snap, “And _I_ told you no!”

Both of your shouting ends up waking Madame Garderobe.

“Ooh, what time is it?” She asks.  “What’s happening?”

Ignoring her, you spit at the door, “I’d starve before I ever ate a meal with you.”

With that, you turn and walk away from the door, believing you’ve made your point.

“WELL, BE MY GUEST!  Go ahead and starve!”  The Beast snaps at you.  He begins to storm away, but not before snapping at the servants, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!  Idiots!”

As he storms away, Cogsworth emerges from his hiding place, saying, “You can’t talk to us like that, I forbid it!”  But the Beast has left.  “Oh, am I too late? Shame, I was really going to tell him off this time.”

Lumiere decides to play a little trick on Cogsworth then.

“Oh, Master, you’ve returned!”  He says, and Cogsworth turns around, only to discover the Beast hadn’t returned.

“Oh, very funny,” Cogsworth says.

“I got you there,” Lumiere comments.

 

* * *

 

The Beast enters the West Wing and stalks over to the chamber, to the table where the rose and the mirror are.  After a moment, he picks up the mirror.  There’d been countless times before where he’d been tempted to use the mirror to look in on you before you came here, but now…

“Show me Y/n,” he orders.

The mirror shifts to reveal an image of you.  At the moment, you’re sitting against the door with a look of utter dread on your face as you look around for a moment, before you sigh miserably and rest your head on your knees.  The image of you in the mirror fades away then and is replaced with his reflection.

He lowers the mirror and watches as a petal falls from the rose and withers as it lands.  At the same time, the castle rumbles as a piece of it falls apart.

 

* * *

 

After your initial moment of terror, you go right back to work dangling the makeshift rope out of the tower.

“Alright,” you mumble, before you grab the rope and get ready to climb out.

But then you hear another knock on the door and you scowl.  What part of no did he not understand?

“I thought I told you to go away,” you snap at the door.

But then you hear a kind, gentle, motherly voice call out, “Don’t worry, dear.  It’s only Mrs. Potts.”

 _Another familiar name and voice,_ you think, before you attempt to hide the rope, position yourself beside the bedpost, and plaster an innocent look on your face, trying to look like you weren’t trying to escape.

The door opens and in comes a tea service trolley with a teapot and a teacup on it.

“Oh, oh, aren’t you a vision,” Mrs. Potts says, as she comes in.  “How lovely to make your acquaintance!”  She notices the open window and your makeshift rope.  “It’s a very long journey,” she tells you.  “Let me fix you up before you go.  I have found that most troubles seem less troubling after a bracing cup of tea.”  You watch as she pours some tea into the teacup, who hops down and slides over to you.  “Slowly, now, Chip,” she tells him.

You bend down and pick up the teacup and take a sip.

“Pleased to meet you,” Chip greets you, and for the first time since you’ve arrived at this castle, you give a genuine smile.  “Wanna see me do a trick?”

He blows a bubble out of his teacup and you giggle.  But at the same time, you feel a pang in your heart.  He sort of reminds you of your little brother, Louis.  How he would’ve been at that age had the plague not taken him.

“Chip,” Mrs. Potts gently scolds him, before saying to you, “That was a very brave thing you did for your friends, dearie.”

Madame Garderobe comes to life.

“Yes, we all think so,” she tells you.

“I’m worried about them, Belle, mostly,” you say, truthfully, as you walk over.

As much as you want to stay and try to figure out why everything here is familiar, your concern is for Belle first and foremost.  That little threat Gaston had made to you about seeing if Belle would accept his proposal had not gone unforgotten.

“Cheer up, my poppet,” Mrs. Potts says, as you put Chip on the service trolley.  “Things will turn out in the end.  You’ll feel a lot better after dinner.”

“But he said ‘If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all,’” you point out in confusion.

“People say a lot of things in anger,” Mrs. Potts comments, as she and Chip begin to leave your room.  “It is our choice whether or not to listen.  You coming, poppet?”

You look from Mrs. Potts and Chip to Madame Garderobe, who gives you a nudge and says, “Go.”

Your stomach gives a traitorous rumble at the mention of food, as if to remind you that you hadn’t eaten anything since this morning.

 _Oh, alright,_ you think, as you unstrap your belt containing your father’s dagger and set it on a table before you follow Mrs. Potts and Chip out of your room to the dining room.

“There you are, dear,” she says, as the three of you arrive in the dining room where Lumiere and Cogsworth are waiting.

Lumiere claps his candles, the lights are doused, and Plumette picks up a serving platter and reflects a ray of moonlight on Lumiere like a spotlight.

“Ma chere mademoiselle,” Lumiere announces.  “It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.”  Plumette is shining the spotlight a little haphazardly until Lumiere clears his throat and whispers, “Here,” before turning back to you and saying, “And now, we invite you to relax!”  You’re startled when a chair moves up behind you and seats you and brings you toward the table.  “Let us pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents…” You watch in awe as the table is covered up and set up with plates, glasses, and silverware.  You’re briefly distracted by the harpsichord playing a wrong note and quickly correcting it.  “Your dinner,” Lumiere finishes.

You aren’t just given dinner.  Lumiere and all the other servants give you a show and you give a smile all throughout it.

At the end of the show, you laugh when Lumiere offers you a small pudding and asks, “Pudding?”

Once you’d had your dinner, you and Mrs. Potts begin to walk together to the stairs that lead straight back to your wing.

“I really don’t understand why you’re all being so kind to me,” you finally admit.  _Or why you all seem to know me._   “Surely, you’re as trapped here as I am.  Don’t you ever want to escape?”

“The master’s not as terrible as he appears,” Mrs. Potts tells you.  “Somewhere deep in his soul, there’s a prince…of a fellow just waiting to be set free.”

The way she’d quickly tacked on that last part after the word ‘prince’ did not escape your notice.

You notice another set of stairs on the other side of the landing.

“Lumiere mentioned something about the West Wing,” you say, thoughtfully.

“Never you mind about that,” Mrs. Potts says.  “Off to bed with you, poppet.”

You begin to climb up the stairs to your wing, as you say, “Good night.”

“Nighty-night,” Mrs. Potts says, as she begins to roll away on the service trolley.  “Straight to bed.”

You smile and give a quick nod of acknowledgement to her.  But once she’s gone and you’re certain no one else is watching, you turn in the opposite direction of the East Wing and climb up the stairs to the West Wing.

One peek can’t hurt.  Perhaps you might find a clue there as to why this place and everything is familiar.

And besides, what's the worst that could happen?


	6. The West Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You flee the castle after getting scared off. But then you're attacked by a pack of wolves and the Beast becomes your unlikely savior.

You’re starting to think you made a big mistake coming here.

While the East Wing is nothing to look at, the West Wing makes your wing feel like a breath of fresh air in comparison.  The corridor is in ruins and there’s crumbling debris here and there.  The stairs are crumbling as well as you climb up them until you reach a set of doors at the end of the hallway and open them.

If you thought the room would have been a lot better than the hall outside, you were dead wrong.  The room looks like a disaster swept through it and there’s a large four-poster bed in the center of the room that looks like it hasn’t seen much use in recent times.

You turn and notice a large portrait of a man, a woman, and a little boy nearby.  The first thing you notice about the portrait is that of all the people in the portrait, the woman (the mother, you can only assume) remains untouched while the man and the boy have been defaced.  The second thing you notice is that the boy’s blue eyes seem somewhat similar to the Beast’s.  Then you realize that they all seem familiar to you.

Deciding to investigate further on this thought later, you begin your exploration of the room.  It’s when you walk further into the room that you discover why the bed hasn’t been used.  Right beside the fireplace is a great nest, a sort of makeshift bed, consisting of antlers, straw, and bones.  Shuddering in horror, you move away from it and continue your exploration.

And then you see it.  Were it not for the state of the room, it probably would have never caught your attention.

In a little chamber near the balcony was a marble table and on the center of the table was a bell jar.  You walk over to get a better look at what’s in the bell jar.  Inside, hanging by itself, is a single red rose with half a dozen petals left on it and a number of faded petals lying below it.  You lean in and peer curiously at the rose, your hand touching the glass.

Suddenly, you’re startled by the Beast jumping into the room and shouting at you, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”  He turns and looks at the rose inside of the bell jar.  “WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT?!”

“N-Nothing, I-I was only-” You begin, nervously.

“Do you realize what you could’ve done?” He growls at you.  He starts toward you and you take two terrified steps back. “You could’ve damned us all!  GET OUT OF HERE!  **GO!** ”

You don’t need to be told twice as you turn and bolt for the exit.  And once you’re out of the West Wing, you don’t stop running.  You run down the stairs and into the entrance hall as if the devil himself is upon you.

You don’t acknowledge Lumiere calling out to you, until you hear him ask, “What are you doing?”

“Getting out of here!”  You answer.

To hell with staying and trying to figure out why this place and everything here is familiar; you’re going to do what you should have done since Lumiere had moved you from the dungeon to the East Wing.  And that was escaping this place and getting back to Belle and Maurice, and Lawrence and Nancy and your other servants.

Up ahead, the windows lock themselves and the entrance bars itself, but you’re determined to get out, ignoring the cries from the servants for you to stop.  But then Lady Luck decides to smile down on you in the form of Froufrou.  The dog runs out through a small door that hasn’t been barred.

“Good doggy,” you mumble.

You run straight toward the small door and duck through it, but not before snatching your cloak from Chapeau on the way out.

Once outside, you make a mad dash for the stables.  When you get to Phoenix’s stall, you waste no time saddling and bridling her.  She must sense your fear.  For the moment you climb into her saddle, she immediately breaks into a gallop without any prompting.  Within moments, you’re out of the gates and galloping straight through the woods.

Suddenly, a howl that sounds too close for comfort fills the air, followed by several more, and a chill races up your spine.

Wolves.

Within moments, a pack of white wolves gives chase, some of them cutting off Phoenix, who swerves off the path and into the underbrush until her hooves start slipping and you realize you’re both on a frozen pond.  A wolf snaps at Phoenix’s legs while another leaps onto the saddle and you fall off to avoid the wolf.  You grab a large branch and whack at the wolf on the saddle.  You swing your branch at the wolves and some of them fall back, but it’s only a matter of time that you end up missing and one of the wolves catches your branch and snatches it out of your hands.

Then you hear a growl and you turn to see a large wolf, the alpha.  You automatically reach for your belt where your father’s dagger is, only to discover you’d left it behind at the castle in your haste to get away.  You reach for a dagger from your ankle sheath and point it at the alpha, ready to go down fighting if you must.

The alpha lunges…

And the Beast appears out of nowhere and tackles the alpha.

You watch in shock as the Beast jumps into the fray and begins fighting the pack.  You sheathe your dagger before you rush over to Phoenix and try to calm her down, but nevertheless, you turn back to watch the fight.  The alpha pounces and bites into the Beast’s arm and back, as the Beast roars in pain.  But then the Beast grabs the alpha and flings it away, before dropping onto all fours and giving an almighty roar that rattles your very bones and frightens the pack into submission.  You and the Beast watch as every wolf flees into the woods until you, Phoenix, and the Beast are the only ones left standing there.

You cling to Phoenix as if she could protect you from the Beast, who turns and looks at you for half a moment before collapsing.  You turn away and flip Phoenix’s reins back over her head.  You’re about to mount Phoenix…when something stops you.

There had been something in the Beast’s eyes - relief? - before he had collapsed.

He’d just saved your life.

You shake your head.  You owe him nothing.

And yet.

You turn to look at him curled up there on the ice.  Now, he doesn’t seem so threatening and terrifying.  He just looks…helpless.  It’s tempting to leave him there right now after all he’s done, but the wolves are still out there and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he won’t be able to fight them off a second time with those wounds of his if they come back.

Finally, you sigh and press your forehead against Phoenix’s saddle, as you whisper “Merde,” knowing you couldn’t leave him here in good conscience, before turning and walking over to him, taking your cloak off as you go.

Once you reach him, you bend down and cover him up with your cloak, coaxing him into consciousness.

“You have to help me,” you whisper, gently.  “I need you to stand.”

A moment passes and you’re about to repeat yourself until the Beast struggles to his feet and you help him over to Phoenix, who balks until you bribe her with an extra bucket of oats and a few carrots as a reward later.  Soon enough, with the Beast mounted on Phoenix’s back, you lead both horse and beast back to the castle, retracing Phoenix’s steps as best you can.

 

* * *

 

You aren't surprised to find the servants waiting at the doors for you when you return with the Beast.

Upon seeing the state the Beast is in, the servants escort you both inside.  Chapeau takes the Beast from you and helps him up to the West Wing and you and the other servants follow them up, while you bark out orders for hot water and towels as your old nurse instincts begin to kick in.

After Chapeau sets the Beast down on his dusty, unused bed and strips him of his shirt and cloak, you set to work cleaning his wounds with the items you’d asked for.  You have to avoid cringing every time the Beast roars in pain while you work.  If this keeps up, you're probably going to end up deaf a lot earlier than you're expecting.

You've had plenty of bad patients before back in the war.  Right now, the Beast is shaping up to leave them all behind in the dust.  

"OOWW!"  The Beast roars in pain, before he turns to snap at you, “That hurts!”

“If you held still, it wouldn’t hurt as much!”  You snap back at him.

“Well, if you hadn’t run away, none of this would’ve happened,” he tells you.

Your temper flares.  Did he forget _why_ you ran off in the first place?

“Well, if you hadn’t frightened the living daylights out of me, I wouldn’t have run away!”  You retort.

“Well, _you_ shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!”  He retorts.

Now you can see he’s trying to win this argument.

“Well, _you_ should learn to control your temper!”  You snap.

He turns away from you, effectively shutting up.

You give his wounds a quick once-over, before you decide you’ve done the best you can and say, “Try and get some rest.”

“Thank you, miss,” Mrs. Potts says.

“We are eternally grateful,” Lumiere adds.

“Why do you care about him so much?” You ask.

“We’ve looked after him all his life,” Mrs. Potts answers.

But that doesn’t make any sense to you.

“But he’s cursed you, somehow,” you say.  “Why? You did nothing!”

“You’re quite right there, dear,” Mrs. Potts says.  “You see, when the master lost his mother, and his cruel father took that sweet, innocent lad and twisted him up to be just like him, we did nothing.”

“Let him sleep,” Lumiere tells you.

You hesitate, wanting to do more, but you turn and follow the servants out of the room.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, you lay the back of your hand on the Beast’s forehead, checking for a fever and relieved when you find none.  After you slide off of the bed, you stifle a yawn.  You hadn’t slept well at all last night.  You’d dreamt about your mother and brothers’ funeral for the first time in years.  There was one detail added to the dream that you hadn’t remembered the last time you’d dreamed of them.  There’d been a boy a couple years older than you comforting you.

One more puzzle piece to add to the mystery of why this place seems familiar to you.

Making a mental note to write down this clue in your journal later, among the other clues you’d written down last night before going to bed, you look for something to distract yourself.  You look over and notice the bell jar containing the rose.

“What happens when the last petal falls?” You ask, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“The master remains a beast forever,” Lumiere answers.  “And we become…”

“Antiques,” Mrs. Potts finishes.

“Knick-knacks,” Lumiere adds.

“Lightly-used house ware,” Plumette chimes in.

“Rubbish,” Cogsworth says.  “We become rubbish.”

You sit down at the foot of the Beast’s bed.

“I want to help you,” you admit.  _All of you._   “There must be some way to break the curse.”

“Well, there is one,” Cogsworth begins, but Lumiere whacks him to shut him up.

“But it’s not for you to worry about, lamb,” Mrs. Potts tells you.  “We’ve made our bed and we must lie in it.”

You look over and watch as a petal falls off of the rose.  Then you hear a faint rumble outside.  A small hint of dread fills you at the sound.


	7. A Memory Out of A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Beast start to grow closer through your love of books. The feeling that this place is familiar grows stronger when you experience what seems to be a memory on a balcony in the ballroom.

Later that day, you’re sitting by the Beast’s bedside.  You’ve been spending the better part of the day checking on his wounds, which seem to be healing pretty well, and puzzling over the mystery of why everything here is familiar and coming up with nothing.

Deciding to abandon the mystery for the moment, you begin searching for something to take your mind off of it.  There are no books on the table (what you wouldn’t give for a book to read), so you decide to recite one of your favorite monologues from William Shakespeare.

“Love can transpose to form and dignity,” you say, as you absently begin fiddling with your hair.  “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.  And therefore-”

“And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind,” the Beast finishes.

You blink and look over at him in amazement, not having realized he was awake this whole time.

“You know Shakespeare?” You ask.

“I had an expensive education,” he tells you.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream has always been my favorite,” you admit.  Admittedly, Helena’s monologue was your second favorite after Robin Goodfellow’s monologue at the end.  “I…also sort of like Romeo and Juliet.”

The Beast rolls his eyes and remarks, “Why is that not a surprise?”

You may not like Romeo and Juliet as much as Belle does, but even that is enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“Well, all that heartache and pining and…” The Beast says, before giving a dramatic shudder.  “There’s so many better things to read.”

 _Oh?_ You think.

“Like what?” You ask.

 

* * *

 

A while later, the Beast opens the doors and leads you into a room, saying, “Well, there are a couple of things in here you could start with.”  You stop and gasp softly in amazement.  You barely hear the Beast ask, “Are you alright?”

Your manor has a small, modest library, but this library makes yours pale in comparison.  Belle would be over the moon if she saw this place.

Once more, you’re struck with the sense of familiarity.

 _I’ve been here before too,_ you think.

“It’s wonderful!”  You finally answer.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he says.  “Well, if you like it so much, then it’s yours.”

He turns to leave, but then you call out to him, “Have you really read every one of these books?”

“Well, not all of them.  Some of them are in Greek,” he admits.

“Was that a joke?” You ask.  “Are you making jokes now?”

“Maybe,” he says.

Then he leaves and you’re left, wondering what just happened.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the Beast invites you to take a walk along the castle grounds with him.  You bring along one of the newer books you’d been reading, a book of poetry.  There’s one poem in there that struck your fancy called ‘A Crystal Forest’, written by a William Sharp, and you’re reading it out loud right now as the two of you walk.

“The air is blue and keen and cold, and in a frozen sheath, enrolled,” you read.  “Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass seems clad miraculously with…glass.”

You notice the Beast has stopped on the bridge to look at something and you turn to see what he’s looking at.  He’s looking at the frozen lake and the frozen woods.

“I feel as if I’m seeing it for the first time,” he tells you.  Even you have to admit that it’s breathtaking.  Then he asks you, “Is there anymore?”

You smile and turn back to the poem you’re reading.

“But in that solemn silence is heard the whisper of every sleeping thing,” you read.  “‘Look, look at me.  Come wake me up, for still here I be.’”

You notice the Beast looking at you then and you manage a smile, before you both turn and look back at the sight before the two of you.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, you decide to properly introduce him to Phoenix.

When he tries to touch her, Phoenix predictably shies away.  You shush her and gently calm her down as you pet her.  And then while keeping one hand on her head, you reach over with your free hand and put the Beast’s hand on her withers.  This time, Phoenix remains perfectly still.

You then move away to let the two get comfortable with each other and walk up the stairs.  Feeling a little mischievous, you gather up some snow from the railing and pack it into a snowball, which you throw at the Beast.  He looks around before he sees you, as you laugh in amusement.

Your smile quickly drops from your face when he packs some snow into a large snowball.  Before you can react, he throws it at you and it knocks you off of your feet onto the ground.  Thankfully, there’s a pile of snow to cushion your fall.  So you pretend to be hurt as you make another snowball, and when he calls your name in concern, you toss another snowball at him.  You both get into a snowball fight that goes all around the grounds until he concedes defeat.

 

* * *

 

That night, when you join him for dinner again after joining him last night, you smile and look to the chair beside you and back at him, silently inviting him to sit next to you.

When he does, he’s about to lap at his soup like he did last night, but hesitates.

You set your spoon down, pick up your bowl, and sip from it.  He does the same and you both share a little laugh about it.

 

* * *

 

As time goes on, when you aren’t reading or picking out books to read or that you think the Beast might like, you help Plumette and the other feather dusters clean the ballroom, much to the servants’ chagrin even after you explain to them that back at home, you’ve helped your servants with chores every day.

As you’re cleaning the frost off of a window, you see the Beast walking Phoenix along the grounds (you two have taken turns walking Phoenix around and today, it’s his turn).  He almost looks to be talking to her as he does.

Watching them, you start thinking to yourself.  You’re not sure what to call this thing between you and the Beast now.  It seems like for the past few days (weeks, maybe? You’ve lost track now), you’ve gone from being at odds with each other to…something beyond acquaintances.  Friends, perhaps? You’re not sure.

After cleaning the window, you move on to a little balcony.  You freeze, then.  There’s something rather familiar about this spot.  Compared to the East Wing, the library, and the ballroom, this spot feels more familiar than the others.

You run your hand back and forth on the marble banister.  Then you slowly get down on your knees and clutch the balustrade.

Just as you do, you feel a flash.  Suddenly, the ballroom seems a lot more grander than it does now.  The chandeliers are all lit up, there are couples dancing around (you could swear you see Maman and Papa among the couples), and residing over it all is a king and queen.  You’re aware of someone else kneeling beside you, looking at it all with the same awe that you feel.

“…Mademoiselle? Y/n?”

You blink and come back to yourself and the image in front of you fades.

“Y/n?” The voice repeats, and you turn to see Plumette beside you looking concerned.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you alright?” She asks.

“Yes, I think I am,” you say.  “Why?”

“You looked pale just now,” she answers.

Do you look pale? You don’t know.

“I’m sorry, I think I need a little air,” you say.

Plumette excuses you, and you leave the ballroom and head to your room.

 _What was that? A memory?_ You wonder.


	8. Easy to Remember, Harder to Move On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You open up to the Beast about your family and what happened to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I was trying to figure out how best to write this chapter (I've gotten some of the other chapters written up), so it ended up taking another viewing to get an idea. Quick notes.
> 
> 1\. The enchanted atlas doesn't make an appearance. I loved the use of it in the movie, but in this story, it has no purpose.
> 
> 2\. The lullaby the reader sings at the beginning of this chapter is "Good Night, My Friend" from Galavant, written by none other than Alan Menken. One of my earlier ideas for this story was to have the reader sing it for comfort after Belle, Maurice, and the Beast leave the dungeon and for the Beast to hear it and realize who it is in the dungeon, remembering that song when he was younger.

That evening, after reading a book to Chip, who had become the little brother you once had, you sing him a little lullaby your maman had once sung to you when you were younger.

“ _Lay by my side, and we’ll sail away off to the shores of another day,_ ” you sing, remembering the lullaby that helped put you to sleep when you couldn’t sleep at all.  “ _All set to go once I hear you say, ‘Good night, my friend, until the morning.’  Up we will float as we close our eyes, stars all around us like fireflies.  Just me and you drifting through the skies.  Good night, my friend._

“ _Not a thought, not a care, resting safe and sound with each other there.  And so we’ll rock on our nighttime ride, cozy and warm on the rolling tide, till we arrive on the morning side at journey’s end._ ”  You’re unaware of someone listening outside of the cupboard, as you begin to finish the lullaby and Chip falls asleep.  “ _Good night, sleep tight, we’re gonna be alright.  Good night, my friend._ ”

After tucking Chip in and blowing out the candle by his bedside, you walk out of the cupboard and shut the door as quietly as possible.

You’re surprised to find the Beast standing outside.  You curtsy to him (you know he must have been royalty once), remembering the manners your etiquette teacher had ingrained in you, though you wonder what he would’ve had to say about you curtsying to a beast.

“I…thought I heard you in there,” he says.

You nod.

“Just thought I’d give Chip a bedtime story and a little lullaby,” you say.

You both walk away from the cupboard to head to the library.

“Are you alright? Plumette mentioned something happened to you in the ballroom,” he says in concern.

Of course he would’ve found out sooner or later.

“I’m not sure,” you answer.

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either.  You’re almost considering telling him about this feeling of familiarity this castle has been giving you since the day you came here in search of Belle and Maurice, but you’re not sure what he’d think.  _I think I might have been here before once, but I’m not sure._   That would go over well.

He looks as if he wants to ask, but he decides not to.

You’re not sure why later, but you tell him, “I never thanked you for saving my life.”

“Well, I never thanked you for not leaving me to be eaten by wolves,” he says.

You chuckle.

Once you’re both in the library, you put back the book you’d read to Chip and begin hunting for your own book to read.

“You seem a little close to Chip,” the Beast says.

You nod after picking out a book, a novel about King Arthur, and setting it down on a desk.

“He reminds me of my little brother, Louis,” you admit.  “How he’d be at that age.”  But then you realize what you just said and correct yourself, “Would have been.”

An awkward silence fills the room, the type where you could hear a pin drop.  Then the Beast tentatively broaches the question, having noticed the way you’d corrected yourself.

“What happened to your brother?” He asks.

You don’t want to tell him, but you know you aren’t going to feel better until you get it off your chest.

“Plague took him when he was four,” you say.  “Along with my mother and brothers, Henri and James.”  Your older brothers had been fourteen and twelve when they’d died.  “I was ten.  I’d only known that they were ill, until the day my papa told me they were dead.”

You could still remember that time before Papa had told you.

You’d all been visiting your summer home outside of Paris.  One day, you’d been outside collecting flowers for your maman when you’d noticed a doctor with some sort of mask walk inside of the house.  Not long after, the doctor left and your papa came outside and told you you both had to leave right now.  When you’d asked why Maman and your brothers weren’t coming with, he’d told you that they were very ill and they’d join you both once they were feeling better.  You’d taken him at his word.

And then a few days after you’d returned to your home outside of Villeneuve, Papa had sat you down to tell you.  When he’d told you they were gone, you naively asked when they were coming home.  He’d had to clarify then that they were dead of a disease called the plague.

“After they were buried, my papa just drifted away for a little bit,” you go on.  “The servants were left to take care of me.  We’d all assumed he would’ve gotten over it after a few months, but then a few months turned into two years and Lawrence and Nancy had to stage an intervention.  Lawrence told him that Maman and my brothers may have been dead, but I wasn’t and I needed him right now more than ever.  Nancy ordered him to shape up, or else she and every servant who wanted to would resign on the spot and walk out before he could even blink.  He took them at their word and tried his best to move on and be the father I needed.”

You almost consider skipping to your father’s death, knowing the Beast’s relationship with his own father, but he nods for you to go on about your father.

“He ended up teaching me how to defend myself.  He taught me fencing, how to throw and wield a dagger, and archery.  Whenever he could, he’d bring me along on a business trip.  He dealt in antiques.  The last business trip he went on was when I was sixteen.  There was a storm at sea.  A large wave capsized the ship he was on.  He didn’t survive.

“We had the funeral a few days later.  I met Belle and her father shortly after.”

It had been raining that day, all too fitting.  You’d been lying prostrate on your family’s grave, wanting nothing more than to join them all right there and then, when the rain had stopped falling.  You’d turned then to see a girl near your age holding an umbrella over you.

“Are you alright?” She’d asked in concern, and you shook your head no.

She’d taken you to the cottage she and her father lived in.  She hadn’t known you were nobility at the time, but she could see that you were in no state to go back to your house, which now felt empty, save for your servants.  On the way, she’d introduced herself as Belle.

When you’d both entered her cottage, Maurice had quickly wrapped you up in a blanket and gotten you a bowl of soup, which you ate meagerly.  You learned that her father had once been an artist, but now made music boxes.  In time, you started to feel comfortable enough to open up about yourself and you revealed your name and that you were nobility.

When Nancy arrived and found you safe and sound, she thanked Belle and Maurice for looking after you and gently told you never to disappear like that again.

From then on, you and Belle had become friends, much to the scandal of the villagers.  They seemed to have ideas about how a noble lady should act and who her friends should be, never mind that they’d never been nobility themselves.  Or maybe they’d been nobility in another life and they weren’t saying anything.

You add, solemnly, “I don’t know where I’d be if I’d never met them.”

Another silence passes.

Then the Beast finally says, his voice heavy with guilt, “I’m sorry I ever called your friends thieves.”

You don’t know when he’d suddenly come to stand right by you.  You turn around and hug him then.  You feel his surprise at first.  Then he gently hugs you in return.  It’s comforting and familiar.

You don’t know how long you two stand there, just hugging.  Finally, you compose yourself and dry away any lingering tears.

“Read with me?” You ask.

You don’t want to be alone right now.

He obliges and you both walk out of the library to the living room to read.

That night, you dream of an old shack and sleeping in a familiar embrace.


	9. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Beast have a romantic dance. Afterward, you discover Belle and Maurice are in trouble.

You hold still as Madame Garderobe fits you into a yellow ballroom gown.

Earlier today, the Beast had said, “You’re making everything look so beautiful, we should have a dance tonight.”

Your heart had leaped in excitement at the thought of having a ball that you’d immediately given an enthusiastic “Yes!”

Once Madame Garderobe has finished, you look at yourself in the mirror and smile.  You give a small little twirl before turning to Madame Garderobe.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!”  She tells you.  “But there’s something missing.  Oh yes, the finishing touch!”

Golden dust magically floats down from the ceiling and lands on your dress, making it even more beautiful.

Soon enough, it’s time.  Your hands are shaking from nerves and there are butterflies in your stomach as you leave your room and make your way to the staircase.  It’s taking all of your willpower not to turn around and run back to your room.  You stop for a moment to take a deep breath.

 _Breathe, Y/n,_ you tell yourself.  _Just breathe.  It's just a dance, nothing more._

You continue down the hall until you reach the top of the stairs.  You look across the way to the West Wing’s stairs and you’re certain your heart skips a beat when you see the Beast standing there, dressed in a dark blue suit and looking rather dashing.  You smile warmly at him and he smiles back, and the butterflies return full force.

You both descend the stairs together and walk into the ballroom, your arm resting on top of his.

You curtsy and he bows.  Then, without a moment’s hesitation, you hold your hands out to him, palms up.  He takes them and you both whirl around the ballroom together as Maestro Cadenza plays in the background, aided by Mrs. Potts’ singing.  At one point, he dips you and twirls you around on his hip, and the butterflies vanish completely, before you continue waltzing.

When it’s over, you loop your arm through his and you both walk out onto the snow-covered terrace together.

“I haven’t danced in years,” the Beast tells you, and you smile.  “I’d almost forgotten the feeling.”  You both look out into the night together before he says, “It’s foolish, I suppose, for a creature like me to ever hope that one day he might earn your affection.”

You look thoughtful, before saying, “I don’t know.”

“Really? You think you could be happy here?” He asks.

“Can anybody be happy if they aren’t truly free?” You ask.

You both look back into the night.

“When I was younger, I think I had some sort of friend,” you say.  “When we were sure everyone in the household was asleep, we’d both sneak downstairs and dance together.  My dancing tutor was so amazed when we practiced together perfectly the next morning.  I’m sorry, I probably sound ridiculous.”

But then you suddenly think of Belle and Maurice.

“What is it?” The Beast asks you, noticing the sad look on your face.

“If only I could see Belle and Maurice again,” you admit.  “Just for a moment.”

“You must miss them,” he says.

You nod, sadly.  “Very much.”

Then he suddenly asks, “Would you like to see them?”

You look at him in confusion, wondering how.

 

* * *

 

A moment later, you’re both in his room by the table where the enchanted rose, which now bears four petals, is.

He picks up a hand mirror and gives it to you, saying, “This mirror will show you anything you wish to see.”

You take the mirror from him and say to it, “I’d like to see Belle and Maurice…please.”

Your reflection disappears and is replaced with an image of Maurice.  But then you look concerned.  Something’s happening to him.  A crowd of villagers is holding back Belle, Nancy, Lawrence, and the rest of your servants while Maurice is being dragged through the village square.

“Maurice,” you say in horror.  “What are they doing to him and Belle? He’s in trouble!”

“You must go to them,” the Beast says.

Yes, that’s what you should do.  You should - But then you realize what he just said.

 _What?_ You think.

“What did you say?” You ask, wondering if you heard him right.

“You must go to them,” he tells you.  “No time to waste.”  Hesitation fills you, but worry for Belle and Maurice is first and foremost.  You turn to leave, until you realize you’re still holding the mirror.  You’re about to give it back to the Beast, but he tells you, “No, take it with you.  Then you’ll always have a way to look back on me, and remember.”

You stare at him for a moment, then you say, “I could never forget you.”

You turn to leave, but then he suddenly says, "Y/n, I..." You turn to him.  But then he hesitates and says, "Go."

And suddenly, the words are there on the tip of your tongue.

_I love you._

But the words seem to catch in your throat, so you simply say, "Thank you."

You turn to leave, but stop to look at him one last time, before running out of the room.  You run down the stairs to the entrance hall.  It would probably make more sense to go back to the East Wing and change into some more practical clothes, but you’re in a hurry.  You need to get back to Villeneuve and clear up whatever misunderstanding Maurice has gotten himself into.

Once you arrive at the doors, Chapeau bows to you and you nod to him.  As the doors open, you turn back to take one last look at this place that has become another home to you and feels so familiar before running out to the stables.

When you reach Phoenix’s stall, you notice her stomping the floor.

“What is it, girl?” You ask.

There’s an envelope sticking out in the corner.  You pick it up and see it has your name on it.  Deciding you can read it later, you hide it inside of your dress for safekeeping before you put Phoenix’s tack on and lead her out.  And just before you mount Phoenix, you look back at the castle one last time before riding off.

 

* * *

 

Back in the castle, the Beast puts on a different coat as he walks into the chamber on the balcony.

He’d let you go.  Even when you’d seemed so close to remembering everything.  But it was the right thing.

Just then, Cogsworth enters, saying, “Well, Master, I have had my doubts, but everything is moving like clockwork.  True love really does win the day!”

“I let her go,” the Beast says.

“You _what?_ ” Cogsworth exclaims, just as Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Plumette also enter and hear the same thing.

“Master, how could you do that?” Lumiere asks.

“I had to,” the Beast answers.

“But why?” Cogsworth asks.

And it’s Mrs. Potts who realizes what the Beast can’t say.

“Because he loves her,” she answers.

“Then why are we not human?” Lumiere asks.

“Because _she_ doesn’t love him,” Cogsworth points out.  “And now, it’s too late.”

“But she might still come back,” Plumette says, hopefully.

“No, I set her free,” the Beast tells them.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you.  Now, go.  Our time is almost past.”

Lumiere, Plumette, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts leave the room, while the Beast steps out onto the balcony to watch you leave.  He runs inside of a tower and climbs up the stairs, trying to keep you in sight for as long as possible.  Once he reaches the top of the tower, he watches you ride through the gates and into the woods until you disappear into the distance.  Once you’re gone, he collapses in despair.


	10. I Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return to Villeneuve to help Belle and Maurice, but in your attempt to try and prove that they're not crazy, you end up putting the Beast in danger. After getting thrown into the asylum wagon, you read the letter you discovered in Phoenix's stall and you remember everything.

You’re on the outskirts of the village after you exit the woods.  Some part of you wonders if this is a trap Gaston laid out for you to make you come running back.  Perhaps it is a trap, but your two friends are in trouble.

You gallop straight into the village square just as the asylum wagon is beginning to leave with Maurice inside.

You immediately cut off Monsieur D’Arque with Phoenix and bark out, “STOP THAT WAGON BY ORDER OF LADY Y/N Y/L/N!”

He stops the wagon.  You dismount Phoenix and take out the mirror from your saddle bag before you rush over to the wagon.

“Y/n?” You hear Belle say in shock, and you hear it echoed by your servants.

After checking to make sure Maurice is all right, you turn to Monsieur D’Arque and order, “Let him out!  He’s hurt!”

“We can’t do that, miss,” Monsieur D’Arque tells you, “but we’ll take very good care of him.”

“Maurice is not crazy!”  You say.  “Gaston, tell him!”

As much as you don’t want to turn to him for help, you have no choice in the matter.  He’s the only one who can help you clear up this misunderstanding.

“You know how loyal I am to your friends, Y/n,” Gaston says, “but Belle and Maurice have been making some unbelievable claims.”

“It’s true, Lady Y/n,” Monsieur Jean says, as he steps forward.  “They’ve both been raving about a beast in a castle!”

“I’ve just come from the castle and there _is_ a beast!”  You exclaim.

“You’d say anything to set him free,” Gaston says.  “You may have influence, but your word is hardly proof.”

Your eyes narrow.

“You want proof? I’ll give you proof,” you hiss at Gaston.  Then you shout loud enough for all of Villeneuve to hear, “Maurice is not crazy, and I can prove it!”  You hold up the mirror and tell it, “Show me the Beast!”  Once his image appears in the mirror, you hold it up for the whole village to see, causing them to recoil in horror.  “There’s your proof,” you tell Gaston.

Gaston takes the mirror from you and says, “This is sorcery!  Look at this beast!”  He shows the mirror to the village, as he exclaims, “Look at his fangs!  His claws!”

“No, don’t be afraid!”  You say.  “He’s gentle and kind.”

“The monster has her under his spell,” Gaston says.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she even _cared_ for him!”

“He’s not a monster, Gaston,” you spit.  “You are!”  You immediately try to make the village see reason.  “The Beast wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

“I’ve heard of the effects of dark magic, but I’ve never before seen it with my own eyes!”  Gaston says.  “This is a threat to our very existence!”  By now, you’re slowly starting to realize the mistake you’ve made as Gaston begins riling up the crowd, adding, “We can’t have her running off to warn the Beast.  Lock her and Belle up too.”

“No!  Take your hands off of me!”  You exclaim as you and Belle are grabbed and tossed into the wagon.  “You won’t get away with this, Gaston!”

"Stand guard!  Don't let them escape!"  Gaston says.  "This creature will curse us all if we don't stop him!"  You hear the crowd roar in agreement.  "Well, I say we kill the beast!"

"No!"  You scream again.

You start beating madly at the door as the mob leaves for the castle, until you sink to the floor in despair.  Just as you do, you hear the sound of crinkling paper from inside of your dress.  Remembering the envelope you’d found in Phoenix’s stall, you pull it out of your dress and open it to reveal a letter.

Then you become confused as you read the contents of the letter until you reach the end, which is signed ‘With love, Adam.’

You knew that name.

Adam…Prince Adam!

You gasp softly in shock.

When you were younger, your mother and Adam’s mother had been friends.  Every year, from spring until fall without fail, your family would visit at the castle.  You and Adam had become friends.  When you both weren’t in lessons with your tutors, you’d play with each other and explore the castle.

Then you remember the little balcony in the ballroom.  Adam had discovered a secret passage that led to a little balcony.  So one night, when his parents were hosting a ball, you’d both pretended to be asleep before sneaking out of bed to watch.  And then some nights when there wasn’t a ball going on and when Adam was certain that the whole castle was asleep, you’d both sneak down the stairs as quietly as possible to the ballroom, him grinning gleefully as he led the way while you shushed him, trying to remind him to keep quiet even though you couldn’t keep a smile off your face, and waltz together.

But then his mother died from some unknown disease and his father had barred you all from the castle, but you and Adam had still found a way to communicate with each other, writing letters to each other that were sent back and forth to each other.

And then years later, Maman and your brothers had died from the plague.  While there were people visiting the manor after the funeral to offer your father their condolences, you’d quietly snuck out of the manor, wanting to be alone.  To your surprise, you’d discovered that Adam had snuck away from the castle to see you, having heard about their deaths, and offer some comfort.

Then when you turned thirteen, after years of letters sent back and forth and him sneaking out to see you whenever he could, you’d decided that you two would have a picnic together whenever he came to visit.  Sometimes when you didn’t know he was coming and you were wrapped up in a book, the cook would come in and set a picnic basket on the table beside your chair and give you a wink to let you know.

And then a year before your father’s death, when you and Adam had both went on a picnic together, you’d both ended up getting caught in the rain, so you quickly led the way to an abandoned shack you’d found one time when you’d been out for a walk once.  You two were completely soaked by the time you’d gotten inside.  And then he’d kissed you, catching you completely by surprise, but you’d returned it.  One thing had led to another and you’d both slept together until the rain passed.  Before he left, he’d pressed a kiss to your hair and whispered, “I love you.”

But then months after your tryst in the shack, his letters suddenly stopped coming and every letter you sent to him went unreturned and unanswered.  You’d wondered then if you’d done something wrong, until you finally gave up and stopped writing him altogether.

You let out a cry of shock when the onslaught of memories had finished and stagger back in shock, still clutching the letter in your hand.

“Y/n? What is it?” Belle asks, noticing the state you’re in.

 _I remember,_ you think.

“Mon dieu, I remember!”  You say aloud.

And then you realize.

The Beast is Adam.  Adam is the Beast.

Oh God.  You’ve put Adam in danger!


	11. Escape and Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You escape with help from Belle, Maurice, and your servants and hurry back to the castle to save Adam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The near end of this chapter is inspired by an idea from Myforevermoment on Tumblr where Belle gets shot instead of the Beast, but with the reader getting shot.
> 
> The link, if y'all are interested: http://myforevermoment.tumblr.com/post/158916472069/okay-this-is-a-sad-idea-i-love-it-but-bare-w

After recovering from your shock, you immediately renew your attempts to try and break out as you look at Monsieur D’Arque pacing around the square.

“I have to warn Adam,” you say, frantically.

“Who?” Belle asks in confusion.

“The Beast,” you explain.

_Oh, Adam, what did you do?_

You and Adam were going to have to have a serious talk about how he ended up like that.

“Warn him?” Maurice asks you.  “How did you get away from him?”

“He let me go,” you tell him.  “He sent me back to you two.”  Then you decide to reveal all.  “He’s someone I knew from a long time ago.  A friend, possibly something more than that.  I don’t know how he ended up the way he is, but all I know is if I don’t get back there soon, he may die!”

But then you notice your servants hiding with weapons, makeshift or otherwise, in hand, and you get an idea.

“I can’t breathe,” you say to Belle and Maurice, before you pretend to faint.

Taking your cue, they immediately race to the door and begin shouting for help, exclaiming that you just fainted and you aren’t breathing.  Monsieur D’Arque falls for it and unlocks the wagon.

Just as he unlocks it and comes inside, you spring up, grab him by the collar of his coat, and slam him against the padded wall of the wagon.

“Now, here’s what you’re going to do, monsieur,” you say, calmly.  “You are going to release me and my friends right now, and if you do, I will gladly overlook what you did.  And if you don’t - Pierre?”

“Present and accounted for, ma’am!”  Pierre called out, as he and the servants came out.

“I will have Pierre here run to the magistrate, who will very likely be interested to know why a noblewoman is about to be taken to the asylum under false pretenses,” you say.  “And the magistrate will very likely charge you with false testimony and throw you into jail.  So what’ll it be?”

Monsieur D’Arque gladly releases you.

As you get out of the wagon, you untie your dress and call out, “Thomas, Pierre, my horse!”

Lawrence hands you a coat as Thomas leads Phoenix toward you and Pierre bends down and puts his hands together.  You use them to climb up onto Phoenix and then you whisper to Phoenix, “Away, my sweet.  Adam is in trouble.”

Phoenix neighs and she takes off out of the village, as you fling your dress off so that you’re dressed in nothing but your shift and the coat Lawrence gave you.  Your eyes narrow with fierce determination as she gallops into the woods and down the snow-covered path leading to the castle, your heart pounding to the beat of the chant in your mind, I-remember, I-remember, I-remember.

How _could_ you have forgotten?

But then a memory comes back.

You’d been invited to a ball at the castle after two years of silence and you’d decided to arrive a little late.  After going over the final preparations, your carriage was ready to travel to the castle for the ball.

You and Thomas had been halfway into the woods when Thomas had suddenly called out to you and asked where you were heading out.  You’d been confused, wondering why Thomas needed to know where you were heading, so you were about to tell him, until you realized you couldn’t remember where, so then you’d had little choice but to turn around and head home.

You suddenly forgetting where you were going and Adam turning into a beast were connected.  He’d been put under a curse, which made you forget him, the castle, and everyone who lived there.

If only you’d decided to leave early instead of later.  Maybe then you might’ve been able to try and reason with whoever had cursed him.  Or maybe you would’ve been cursed right along with him and everyone else.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on that.  All you could do now was hope that you weren’t too late.

 _When this is all over, I should write a book about this,_ you think.

By the time you arrive at the castle, the mob is retreating.  Once you dismount Phoenix, you find LeFou.

LeFou must know what you’re here for, because he immediately tells you, “He’s upstairs.”  He can only be talking about Gaston.  You nod and turn to run up the stairs to the castle.  As you do, LeFou calls out, “Oh, and when you see him, let him know Le Duo is over.  From now on, I’m Le Single!”

You give another nod as you enter the castle and leave the entrance hall.

You’re not much of a religious person, but now as you race up the stairs to the West Wing, you begin praying to whatever God is listening to spare Adam from Gaston.

 _Please, please don’t take him,_ you pray.  _We’ve only just found each other again.  Please, I’ll do anything.  I’ll leave him for good this time, I won’t see him again, just don’t take him from me,_ please!

A gunshot rings out and you run faster until you find Gaston standing triumphantly on a ledge just outside of the tower.  There’s no sign of Adam and that terrifies you more than anything.  You sneak up behind Gaston as quietly as you can, resisting the urge to shove the smug bastard out the window to his doom or stab him in the back (which you gladly would have done if you’d had one of your daggers with you) and then shove him out, and steal his arrows from him while he’s distracted.  You wait until he notices his arrows are missing to make your presence known.

“Lose something?” You ask, casually, and he turns to see you right behind him with his arrows in your hand.

“Y/n!”  He says in surprise.

Just to show him how serious you are, you snap his arrows in half over your knee and fling them down the stairwell.

“Where is he?” You snarl.  “What have you done?”

Your question enrages him.

“You prefer that misshapen thing to me…when I offered you everything?!”  He spits at you.  Then he drawls, “When we return to the village, you will marry me.”  Your blood runs cold when he pulls out his pistol, adding, “And that beast’s head will hang on our wall.”

“Over my dead body!”  You scream at him.

The vehemence in your tone catches him by surprise, and you gladly take advantage of it to try and snatch the pistol out of his hands.

“Come now, Y/n, let go!”  He snaps at you, trying to take the pistol away from you.

“You let go!”  You retort.

You both wrestle over the pistol until the ledge Gaston is standing on crumbles and he falls along with his pistol.  He lands a floor below you while his pistol lands on a footbridge a few stories down.

Immediately, he races off to grab it again and you quickly take Lawrence’s coat off and chase after Gaston, trying to get there before him as he shouts, “I’m coming for you, beast!”

You chase Gaston across a walkway, but he jumps off to slide down a roof to get closer to his pistol.  Swearing under your breath, you continue across the walkway and leap over a gap caused by the crumbling castle and inside of a tower.  You race down the stairs until you see a gap in the wall.

You run over and grab onto the wall to keep yourself from flinging yourself out of the gap when you spot Adam climbing a roof on a tower across from yours.  Your heart jumps into your throat when he almost slips off of the roof.

“NO!”  You scream.

Upon hearing your voice, Adam turns and says, “Y/n?”

Sure enough, there you stand in the gap, dressed in naught but your shift.  He swings down from the roof and climbs up onto another one, as if he’s trying to ascertain that it's you.

“Y/N!”  He shouts, joyfully.

Just the utter joy in his voice makes your heart soar ( _I remember you, I love you, I’ll never leave you again!_ ) and you can’t stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

 _Yes!  I’m here!_   You want to shout back.

“You came back!”  He cries.

“I tried to stop them!”  You call out to him.

You don’t know what Gaston told him, if anything, but you need to let him know that you did not lead that angry mob to him on purpose.

“Stay there, I’m coming!”  Adam tells you.

With that, he begins leaping from parapet to parapet to try and reach you.  But on the next parapet, Gaston ambushes him and strikes him with a stone spire.  You immediately leave the gap and run down the stairs.  You arrive on the balcony of the West Wing just in time to watch helplessly (and God, do you _hate_ that feeling) as Gaston kicks Adam into a cupola across the way.

“Gaston!  No!”  You scream as Gaston moves toward Adam with the stone spire in hand.

Your cry reinvigorates Adam and he catches the stone spire just as Gaston is about to strike him with it again.  After a momentary struggle, Adam yanks the spire out of Gaston’s hand and tosses it aside before grabbing Gaston by the neck.  You gasp in horror as Adam holds Gaston out over the edge.

 _No, Adam, not like this,_ you think.

You want Gaston to pay for what he’s done, but not like this.

“Don’t let me go,” Gaston pleads.  “Please, I’ll do anything!  Don’t hurt me, beast!”

That stops Adam.

He slowly pulls Gaston toward him to say, “I am _not_ a beast.”  With that, he growls once and tosses Gaston aside.  You look amused as you watch Gaston flee like the coward he is, as Adam tells him, “Go!  Get out!”

Once Gaston is gone, Adam turns his attention back to you and drops onto all fours.

“Don’t!”  You protest, realizing what he’s about to do.  “It’s too far!”

But once again, you underestimate him; you’ve been doing that a lot lately ever since meeting him again.  He bounds across the cupola and leaps across to the balcony.  He climbs up and you smile in relief.  Once he stands up, you both lock eyes with each other and you’re about to tell him everything

( _I remember you, I love you, I’ll never leave you again_ )

when a gun goes off and Adam lurches forward, roaring in pain, revealing Gaston standing behind him on the bridge, pistol pointed at him.  You frantically try to help Adam up.

“Please!”  You scream at Gaston as he begins to load another round.  “Come on,” you say to Adam, trying to get him to his feet.

When you look back at Gaston, you see him taking aim again.  Then you realize something.  You’re not going to be able to get Adam out of the way in time.

Finally, you make the single most hardest decision you’ve ever had to make.

_I’m so sorry, my love._

You immediately step in between Adam and the gun just as Gaston pulls the trigger for the third and final time.

The bullet pierces your abdomen and the force of the shot causes you to stagger backward into Adam, who had just managed to shakily rise to his feet, and you both tumble down the four steps into the chamber near the West Wing.  You land in a heap at the bottom of the steps while Adam lands a few feet away from you beside the table where the rose is.

On the bridge, Gaston stands frozen in shock, but before he can do anything, the bridge crumbles underneath him and he falls to his death.

Moments pass before the ringing in your ears fades and you struggle to lift yourself up, wincing at the searing pain from the bullet.  You look over at Adam, who is lying on his back, breathing deeply, and you sigh in relief.

He’s alive.  He’s safe.

You drag yourself over to him.  Every move you make toward him is sheer agony in of itself, but you don’t care.  All that matters is getting to him and letting him know everything now while you still can.  You hunch over him once you reach him and slowly caress his cheek, fighting back tears of pain as you study his features, committing them to memory before you die.  He looks up at you in wonder and awe.

“You came back,” he whispers.

Did he ever doubt you would?

“’Course I came back,” you say.  You start to breathe shallowly. “I’m…sorry…I have to leave you again.  For…good this time, I’m afraid.”

He looks at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asks you.

“It was the…only thing I could think of…d-doing at the time,” you say.

Finally, the pain gets to be too much and you keel over with a whimper of pain, barely registering Adam saying your name in concern and then shouting your name before catching you.  And then he sees it.  Your shift is stained red.

“Just hold on, Y/n,” Adam says, beginning to gather you into his arms.  “We have to find you a doctor.”

But you grab his hand in both of yours and shake your head gently.

“No…’s already done,” you say, knowing you’re beyond help now.

Back in the war, you’d seen enough bullet wounds to know when there was nothing you could do but stand back and let Père Robert deliver the final rites.  This is one of them.

Adam looks like he’s about to protest, until he realizes the same thing, and cradles you, trying to make you comfortable for however long you have left.

Finally, you decide to tell him everything.

You look up at him and say, “I remember you.”  He’s confused at first, until you say, “Adam.”  You take a ragged breath.  “I remember everything…I remember Lumiere…Plumette…Mrs. Potts…Chip…Cogsworth…everyone.”  It’s getting harder to keep your eyes open now.  “I…love you.  I’m…sorry…it took me this long to remember.”

That alone is your only regret, but you don’t regret getting shot in his place for one minute.  You’d gladly take that bullet for him all over again if you had to.

“We’re together, now.” Adam tells you.  You can see he’s trying to fight back tears now.  “Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Tears start to fall freely down your cheeks, yet you still smile as you reach up and place your hand on his furry cheek and he leans into your touch and presses your hand close to his face.

“At least…I got to see you…one last time,” you say.

And with that, you breathe your last breath and go slack in Adam’s arms, eyes sliding closed as your hand slowly drops from his face to land lifelessly at your side.


	12. The Spell is Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell is broken, you're brought back to life, and you and Adam reunite with everyone.

“No,” Adam gasps, upon feeling you go limp in his arms.   _Not her.  Please, not her too._   “No, please.  Come back!”

It’s all he can do now.  He can only beg for you to come back.

He hears the castle give a final rumble and he knows without looking at the rose that the last petal has fallen.  But it doesn’t matter anymore.  He just wants you back.  He pulls you close to him and lets out a heart-wrenching, devastating roar that seems to echo for miles.

Was this what that blasted Enchantress had wanted? To bring you back to him with no memories of him whatsoever and then rip you away from him when you remembered at the most crucial moment?

He doesn’t notice when Agathe, otherwise known as the Enchantress, quietly enters the chamber and approaches the table, coming across the sight of him cradling your body and grieving over you.

“Come back,” he begs you, desperately, now crying while you remain lifeless in his arms, your head lolling into his chest.  “Please don’t leave me, Y/n.  I love you.”

He loosens his embrace around you so that he can press a kiss to your forehead, before pulling you close to him again and rocking you back and forth.

The Enchantress lifts her hand to the encased rose.  The petals float up and the bell jar disintegrates.  The rose petals and the crystal of the bell jar float over to him and surround him.  He doesn’t notice until a blinding, beautiful light surrounds him.

He holds you close to him, unwilling to let go of you as he changes; paws shifting back into hands and feet, fur changing back into human skin, and fangs and horns receding.  The light fades away and he suddenly feels you jolt in his arms.

You gasp deeply and grab onto something to steady yourself.  You nearly start when you feel smooth skin under your hand and open your eyes.  You’re confused when you find yourself in the arms of a man who looks strangely familiar to you.

Then you realize something.  That shot Gaston fired was fatal.  By all rights, you should be dead.  You look down at your stomach.  To your surprise, there’s no blood and your shift is unstained and mended.  It’s almost as if you’d never been shot at all.

Something starts to come back to you.  You’d been floating in cold darkness, until you’d felt a warm feeling spreading throughout your body and then concentrating itself on your stomach where you’d been shot, before sending a shock through you and feeling something yanking you out of the darkness.

You look up at the man holding you.  He smiles through his tears and caresses your cheek.

“Y/n…it’s me,” he says.

You look confused before you reach up, hesitating for a moment, and caress his cheek and fondle a lock of his hair.  But then you look into his eyes, his blue, _blue_ eyes, and everything comes rushing back.

“I remember you,” you say with a smile.

With that, you sit bolt upright in his arms and kiss him passionately and Adam wraps his arms around you and returns your kiss.  When you both pull away, you hug each other tightly as if either of you will slip away if you let go even for one minute.  You’re both unaware of it at the moment, but the sun is slowly rising and the castle is changing.

You want to tell him everything.  You want to tell him how it happened, how you finally remembered him and everyone else here, but you figure you can tell him later.  Right now, all that matters is you’re here with him and he’s here with you.

“I love you,” you mumble against his skin.  “I love you so much.  I’ll never leave you again.”

“I love you too,” he replies.

As much as you two want to spend time here, holding each other, you both know there’ll be time for that later.  You both stand up and leave the West Wing to go find everyone else.

You say to Adam, “You will tell me how this happened to you later.”  And then, because you’re feeling a little cheeky, you add in what he told you when he’d ‘invited’ you to dinner on your first night at the castle, “That’s not a request.”

“And you will tell me how you remembered me and everyone else,” he answers.  “That’s not a request, either.”

You laugh and say, “Touché, my love.”

As you both walk out of the doors to the courtyard to see all of his servants reuniting with the villagers, and some of your servants reuniting with his, such as seeing Nancy hugging Mrs. Potts (her friend, you now remembered), Plumette spots you and Adam and says, “Lumiere, look!”

“Oh, my prince!”  Lumiere says, before he bows and Plumette curtsies.

“Hello, old friend,” Adam says.

Lumiere hugs him, saying, “It’s so good to see you!”

“You saved our lives, mademoiselle,” Plumette tells you, as she curtsies to you and you do the same.

You smile as you look around at the people who had once been enchanted objects.  It’s all coming back to you about why they were familiar.

Lumiere and Plumette were and always had been lovers, who you’d seen sharing a few quiet moments with each other anytime you’d been walking through the halls.

Cogsworth was someone who was so stuffy you and Adam had thought he’d needed to lighten up more often.

Mrs. Potts had looked after you and Adam whenever your parents and his couldn’t.

And Maestro Cadenza and Madame de Garderobe were husband and wife traveling together, who more often than not would perform at the balls Adam’s parents held.  You’d always sit in the ballroom to watch the two of them practice.  Madame Garderobe had not only been a singer who’d given you voice lessons, but also a seamstress who would always make the most marvelous dress for you whenever she could while Maestro Cadenza sometimes snuck a little sweet for you whenever he and his wife were visiting the castle.

“Y/n, it’s me!  It’s Chip!”

You laugh and bend down to hug Chip. You’d helped Mrs. Potts look after him back when she’d been on leave from the castle so she could have him.  You’d always played games with him until he was old enough to leave to go to the castle with his mother.  And in between that time, when the letters had stopped coming and Mrs. Potts was staying at home until she and Chip had to leave for the castle, you’d quietly asked her how Adam was and she’d told you that he had been acting cold and cruel.

 

* * *

 

It was a long day of everyone reuniting with each other.  That night, you stayed at the castle while your servants went back to the manor.  You were planning on going back sometime; you just had to sell your manor to the highest bidder so you and your servants could live at the castle.

You’d been asleep for a few minutes until you heard someone whisper, “Y/n?”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder to find Adam in your room by your bedside.

“What’s the matter?” You ask.

“I was…would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight?” He asks.

You’re almost about to point out that it’s improper, until you remember that you aren’t exactly an innocent virgin anymore.  Then you realize why he’s asking permission to stay with you.  You’d been dead for a short period of time earlier today (or had it been last night?) and he just needed to be sure that you were still alive and right here.  And if you were honest, you felt like you needed him right now too.

So you nod and move over, lifting the covers and patting the space beside you.  He climbs in right next to you and you put the covers back over him before snuggling up to him.

“Did you have a bad dream?” You ask.

“Yes,” he answers.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you’re about to tell him that it’s okay if he doesn’t want to and that you’re right here when he decides he wants to talk about it, until he says, “It was when you were shot.”  You feel a tinge of sadness as you remember that time in between being shot and then waking up in his arms after being dead.  “In the dream, your wound didn’t heal and you were still dead after I changed back.”

You hug him and say, “I’m here now, aren’t I? It’s alright.”  You’re not feeling sleepy right now and you hadn’t asked him earlier, so you decide to ask him, “So, tell me.  How did you end up cursed?”

“I wasn’t a good person after your letters stopped coming,” he tells you, as he runs his fingers through your (h/l) (h/c) hair.  “I was selfish, unkind.  I only cared about beautiful objects and beautiful people.”  You know his father had a large part in shaping him up to be that way after what Mrs. Potts had told you that night when you’d been tending to him.  “One night during a ball, an old beggar woman came to the castle in search for shelter.  I turned her away because I didn’t deem her beautiful enough to be in my presence.

“She turned out to be an enchantress in disguise and as punishment, she turned me into the creature I was and all of my staff into objects,” he goes on.  “I had until the last petal on the rose fell to fall in love with someone and for someone to fall in love with me in return, otherwise I’d remain a beast forever.  As part of the curse, everyone forgot about the castle, including you.”  Then he asks, “How did you end up remembering?”

You open the drawer on your bedside table and pull out the letter he’d written to you to show him.  He reads it over and looks surprised, before asking, “Where-?”

“After you let me go so I could go save Belle and Maurice when I was taking Phoenix out of her stall, I found it there,” you say.  “I didn’t know what it was at the time, but it had my name on it.  When Gaston had me locked up with Belle and Maurice, I found out it was a letter.  It helped me remember who you and everyone else were.  It made me remember that you and I used to send letters to each other and how we used to go on picnics together.

“And then months after that picnic where we got caught in the rain and I took you to that shack I discovered once and we…” You trail off, before nodding your head in a certain way and saying, “You know, your letters stopped coming and every letter I sent you went unanswered, to the point where I started wondering if I’d done something wrong and then stopped writing you altogether.”

Adam seems to be realizing something.

“You don’t think…?” He asks.

“I’m not sure,” you say.  “I think your father didn’t approve of me and my family all that well, despite our social standing.  Maybe, he might’ve hidden our letters and that’s what led to our giving up on each other.”

He immediately gets out of bed and you realize he wants to go looking for the missing letters.  You’re about to tell him that it can wait until tomorrow, but even you are curious about whether or not your theory might be correct.  So after you try and make yourself as decent as possible, you both head down to the stables and you lead him to the stall where you found his letter.  You both search through the stall until you accidentally discover a loose board, which opens up to reveal two separate stacks of letters hidden there wrapped up in twine.

After recovering from the shock that your theory was correct, you look over at Adam, who’s gone silent.

Starting to worry, you cautiously ask, “Adam?”

“I…knew my father wasn’t good, but I never…” he said.

You hug him and whisper, “Come on, let’s go back.”

You both carry your respective stacks of letters inside.  The whole castle is asleep, so it’s easy to head back to your room and climb back into bed together.  He wraps his arms around you and you snuggle back up to him as you two fall asleep.


	13. Together Now For Evermore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Adam hold a ball to celebrate everything, including your engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Again. I'd been originally thinking of making this chapter a wedding with the ball, but then I couldn't get any ideas for it, so I decided to go with what we have here.
> 
> And let's be realistic here, folks. There is no way Garderobe and any other seamstress or tailor could've gotten all those garments made and the servants gotten the ballroom ready in one day for a ball.
> 
> Side note: LeFou's name, Étienne Lefevre, is a reference to "What My Mother Would Have Wanted" by Puzzle with Infinite Pieces.

A week later, you and Adam are holding a ball to celebrate the curse being broken.  But that’s not the only thing being celebrated.  You’re both celebrating your engagement.

You two had decided to resume the picnics you’d taken together before the letters you sent to each other had been hidden by his father and the Enchantress’ spell had been enacted.  It was on one such picnic that he’d proposed to you.  You’d just been about to pour yourself a glass of wine when you were shocked to find a rose ring at the bottom of your glass.

When you looked up at Adam, he simply asked you, “Marry me?”

Your response was a teary smile and a nod before he took the ring out of the glass and carefully slipped it onto your ring finger and you both kissed passionately.

And now here you are, dressed in a white dress with roses on it and Adam dressed in a light blue suit, almost similar to the dark blue suit he’d been wearing when you two had been waltzing together that night, just one of many people dancing together in the ballroom with Madame Garderobe, who had made your dress specially for the occasion, singing, accompanied by her husband, Cadenza, on the harpsichord and a small orchestra.

Nearby you and Adam, Cogsworth is reluctantly dancing with Clothilde, his wife.  It’d been quite a surprise to learn that Cogsworth had had a wife, especially one as shrewish as her.  Lumiere and Plumette are dancing together as are Lawrence and Nancy and Mrs. Potts and her husband, Monsieur Jean.  Even Belle is on the floor dancing with LeFou, or Étienne Lefevre, as you learned was his actual name, while Maurice paints a picture of you, Adam, and everyone else.

You extended an invitation to Belle and her father to come live with you, with Adam’s blessing.  Belle could give reading classes in the library for all the students and those who couldn’t read and Maurice could take up his old job of being a painter.  They’d both gladly accepted.

On the day you and your servants moved out of the manor, with Adam assisting you and the servants wherever he could, Étienne had come up to you to apologize for not doing anything when Gaston had you and Belle thrown in the asylum wagon with Maurice.  You assured him that you bore him no ill will and Étienne did the same when you apologized for what happened to Gaston.  He told you it had taken getting punched in the face by a coat rack, crushed by a harpsichord and left behind, and then learning that you’d been shot trying to protect Adam to finally understand that Gaston wasn’t good for him.

You were aware of how Étienne had felt about Gaston, you weren’t exactly blind.  You’d see the longing looks he’d give Gaston when Gaston was flirting with you or whatever maiden had caught his fancy.

You’re brought out of your remembrances as the music begins to slow down and the tempo in the dancing does as well.  The couples, except for you and Adam, have switched now.  Belle has a new dancing partner, who she seems quite taken with.  And if you see Étienne and Stanley dancing together and the looks they’re giving each other, you don’t say a thing. 

You smile and take Adam’s hand in yours as you two continue dancing.

He must know there’s something else to your smile, because he asks you, “What? What is it?”

“Tell me, how would you feel about growing a beard?” You ask.

Adam chuckles and gives a playful growl, an actual animalistic growl, and you giggle as you curtsy to him and he kisses your hand before you both continue dancing.

If someone had come up to you three years ago and told you that you’d find your way to a castle and be reunited with your long lost love who had been cursed to be a beast unless he could find true love, you would’ve believed that person was insane.  Yet here you are now, dancing with the man you love.

You’re both together now, soon to live happily ever after.


End file.
